


Not Enough to Feel the Lack (I Want Them Back)

by loonyBibliophile



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, post-ep fic, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the other team members wander to bed or to their offices to work, she can feel them watch her, and she can only imagine how pathetic she looks. Jemma Simmons, two PHDs and a deep cover operation under her belt, too afraid to knock on her best friend's door. She takes a deep breath and raps her fist as softly as possible on the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Enough to Feel the Lack (I Want Them Back)

**Author's Note:**

> Take anything in this fic with a grain of salt, AOS has been stressing me out so I've been putting off watching it. This is mostly gleaned from tumblr posts and a summary someone wrote up for me. But I felt the need to write it regardless, so here it is. Hopefully someone enjoys it. Title is from 'Ribs' by Lorde and if I could have made the title the entire song I would have, it's the fitzsimmons soundtrack as far as I'm concerned.

As she stands outside the door to his room, Simmons knows this is almost undeniably a terrible plan. It's been months since they saw each other, had any contact at all. She can't help but think he feels she abandoned him, she wouldn't blame him. She feels like she did too, even if what she did was inarguably the right thing. As the other team members wander to bed or to their offices to work, she can feel them watch her, and she can only imagine how pathetic she looks. Jemma Simmons, two PHDs and a deep cover operation under her belt, too afraid to knock on her best friend's door. She takes a deep breath and raps her fist as softly as possible on the door. 

"Go away, Skye I don't need to talk." 

"It's uh. It's not Skye." she speaks just loudly enough to be heard. There's silence on the end of the door, just enough she thinks he didn't hear or ignored her, and she starts to turn and leave when the door opens slowly.

"Simmons." Fitz's voice is quiet and obviously modulated to be as level as he can make it. He just stares at her for a few moments and she wonders if he doesn't know what to say or is waiting for her to talk or if it's the brain damage stealing his words away. 

"Hi Fitz." there's silence after she speaks, so she pulls her sweater sleeves into her hands, tugging at them nervously, and speaks again "Can I come in?"

"Oh. Uh. I don't see why... why. Why not. I don't see why not." his hands are twitching nervously at her sides and she wants to reach out, sooth the tendons with her own hands, but she knows that's too much, he'd push her away and she couldn't bear that. Things are too strange and fragile between them. She nods and follows him in, and he shuts the door behind him. His room looks much the same as it did when she left the Playground. There are still pictures of them on the wall over his desk, and she allows herself a small smile and strokes down the edges of the glossy photo paper. 

"So how was it?" he asks, and she knows him well enough still to know he doesn't just mean being undercover. He means how was it being away from the team, on a mission away from him. The room seems cold and she draws her arms about herself, suddenly wishing she'd worn a warmer jumper. She decides to tell the truth. He deserves that, after all.

"Rubbish. I was constantly afraid of being discovered, it was nice to be in a well funded lab again, I'll admit that much but... it's not the same. The same as being here, I mean. No." she says suddenly, shaking her head "That's not what I mean. It wasn't the same because I wasn't working with you. I missed you. I mean, I missed everyone, obviously. But mostly you." 

"I missed you too, Simmons." his voice sounds equal parts hollow and sad, and for the first time her last name sounds wrong and harsh rolling off his lips. Her nails dig into the fabric of her jumper and she nods. 

"Are we... okay?"

"I don't know." he looks as tired as she feels. She nods. 

"Do you reckon we'll be okay eventually?"

"I... I don't know, Simmons." 

"Okay." she says quietly, nodding. "That's fair. I know I bunged everything up, leaving you, and I know you must have felt awful and abandoned but.. it was the only thing I could do, Fitz. I thought I was making you worse, and I felt like everything wrong with you was all my fault. And so I left and now everything's more strained than it's ever been between us." 

"You did what you thought was right. No matter how I felt or feel I can't fault you for tha'" 

"I want us to be okay."

"I know, Simmons. I do too, not that much has changed since you left." there's a note of play in his voice, and it gives her the boost she needs to say what she came in to say. 

"I still have nightmares." she says quietly, staring at the ground. She knows he'll know what she means. They'd stopped for awhile, just after he wok up from the coma, but they'd started up again, and they hadn't faded away when she left the playground for Hydra. Fitz wonders, for a half a second, if he should tell her. If he should tell her his nightmares got so bad one night he dreamed her up and she never left, a ghost of the person she used to be to him. But he bites his tongue. Now is not the time. 

"I do too." he says instead. He watches her fiddle with her cuffs. 

"I know things aren't... right between us yet, but I was wondering if I could-"

"Ye can stay here if you want." he says with a nod, finishing her sentence. 

"You're sure? I don't want to overstep. I'm sure you've gotten close to the others in my absence, I wouldn't want to assume I'm still-"

"Still m best friend? For chris' sakes, it doesn't matter how mad or upset at you I am, Simmons, or what other shite has happened and gone down with me and you and us. You are my best friend." It's the most words he's spoken since she got back. Taking the risk of looking needy, Simmons steps forward just a little and holds her arms out, silently both asking from and inviting Fitz in for a hug. She wants the comfort, but she wants it to be his decision. He steps forward, somewhat slowly and awkwardly, and he hesitates when he reaches her, but eventually he wraps his arms around her, and she feels her shoulders fall as she does the same to him. She tightens her arms about his waist and presses her hands into his lower back, and she wonders if he consciously decided to rub his thumb along the ridge of her spine or if old habits simply died hard. She wanted to believe it was the former and she allowed herself that indulgence. They stood there for some time, until Fitz finally pulled back. 

"There's still a set of your pajamas in my dresser." he said, a note of guilt in his voice for holding onto them. She lends him a watery smile and rifles until she finds them. Fitz is already dressed for bed, so she ducks into his closet to change, leaving the clothes folded on the floor. 

Wordlessly, Fitz stepped back allowing her onto his bed first, and she smiled knowing he still let her sleep against the wall, still knew that being surrounded in sleep made her feel safe. She slipped under his covers and held them up for him. He climbed in beside her and, for a time, they laid in silence facing opposite direction. Fitz spoke up first. 

"This isn't working."

"You're right, I'm sorry, I'll go." Simmons said quickly, moving to pull herself up. But a hand on her wrist stopped her. She looked down at Fitz, blinking in surprise. 

"S'not wha' I meant." he scooted over slightly, closer to the center of the bed, and his meaning dawned on her suddenly. She swallowed hard once and nodded, turning herself onto her side and tucking one arm against her stomach and letting the other lay across his stomach, her elbow bent to let her hand lay over his heart. He put one arm cautiously about her shoulders, his arm pillowing her head, and let the other rest over her hand on his chest. They laid there for another couple of moments, shifting carefully into comfort, even their breathing measured, as if they were both acutely afraid the other might suddenly break. As awkward and strained as things were, it was still the safest Simmons had felt in months. 

"We can fix this, right?" she said quietly, her voice finally growing sleepy. 

"We've fixed worse, together. We can fix this too." she felt his voice in his chest when he spoke and she nodded. 

"Good night, Fi-... Leo. Good night, Leo." 

"G'night, Jemma."


End file.
